Mirror, mirror on the wall, do you see me when I laugh . . .?
I have been rehearsing this blog for days–and was going to share thoughts on focus when wearing glasses. I have noticed it takes me much longer cleaning the kitchen when I wear my glasses–much longer. I “see” more dirt left behind than I saw without glasses. Those smudges, smears and spots go unnoticed when I “clean” –even fiercely, without proper lens.
But—I lost my glasses yesterday at the grocery store. Retracing my steps, searching shelves and checkouts without success–I am somewhat “seeing” challenged.
This morning, I sit here at the computer screen thinking not of glasses, but of Robin Williams. Last evening, news quickly touched us all concerning his death. Once noted as the funniest man alive– today, Williams is dead. Media glimpses a life filled with depression and addiction.
Through drugstore ‘readers'(what Americans call cheap glasses just for reading), I look deeply into those blue eyes staring back at me. Hundreds of images on the web from Williams’ movies, interviews, live shows reveal the struggle if you look intently, soberly–
in the eyes.
I see a childlike innocence, a gentle asking –“someone tell me what life is all about? Is it more than laughter? Have I missed something?”
I loved his gentleness, his kind heart depicted in Patch Adams. Seeing past the scenes, we get a peek into the comedian’s heart. In hindsight, we may have discerned his questions- those he wrestled with if we had noticed. Williams made us all laugh–
while he was crying.
A few pictures among the many feature him in glasses. But the eyes still depict sadness–the glasses didn’t help. Williams allowed us to see into his troubled life as he openly admitted his struggles through the years.
The psalmist David cried often to his God, “I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my God.” Psalm 69: 3
Even though I have lost my glasses, I pray I have clear perception to focus on those around me who may be crying–not with noticeable tears, but with tears hidden beneath the laughter.
20-20 vision. That’s what I desire on this journey–to see with His eyes.
(I just may blog on glasses and focus next week.)